


Five Times Oliver Holds Felicity's Hand on a Plane and One Time They Do Something More

by CJ_fics



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fear of Flying, implied sex, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_fics/pseuds/CJ_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-explanatory title, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Oliver Holds Felicity's Hand on a Plane and One Time They Do Something More

Isabel Rochev put her in the back of the plane.

Well, not that that the model-esque co-CEO literally seated and strapped her in the last row of the Queen private jet. But when she said, “Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen and I have documents about our Russian subsidiary to discuss. I suggest you find another seat. Somewhere that would allow us some privacy," coupled with a pointed look to the back of the plane, Felicity took the hint.  
  
So here she was, strapped in the back of the plane, seated on the window seat. Digg was nowhere in sight as he opted to stay in pilot’s area to better monitor their flight. Felicity understood that for Digg it was that or to pace the length of the aisle in worry over his ‘friend’ who stuck in a Russian prison. He couldn’t very well do that with Ms. Rochev’s gate-crashing their trip to Russia. It would bring up a lot of questions that they didn’t want Ms. Rochev asking.   
  
As the plane encountered some turbulence, Felicity tried to mask her whimper by clearing her throat loudly and clenching her fists. She would rather ban herself from ever hacking into any computer network than allow Isabel Rochev any inkling of her fear of flying.   
  
Felicity shuts her eyes and spells out the English alphabet in binary code under her breath as the turbulence worsens, her fists grasping her arm rests. If she could just distract herself, she will survive the worst of this.  
  
"Felicity," she opens her eyes to see Oliver bent over her in concern, "Are you all right?"  
  
She nods vigorously as she hears Isabel say in a loud voice, “It’s just turbulence, Oliver. Surely, there’s no need to coddle a grown woman.”  
  
Oliver ignores her and buckles himself in the seat next to Felicity. With his left arm, he pulls her head to rest on his shoulder while his right hand reaches for her hand.   
  
"Once the worst of this turbulence is over, we’ll move to the front of the plane where we can feel it less, all right?" he says, his breath ticking her ear.   
  
"What about your CEO meeting?" she asks in a small voice that would surely embarrass her after this was all over.  
  
Oliver snorts and says, “There are more important things, Felicity.”  
  
———————————————-  
  
As they boarded the Queen private jet for their flight back from Moscow, Oliver got on the plane last.   
  
Isabel went first, an air of smug arrogance around her that Oliver knew had everything to do with how the night they spent between the sheets. In another life, Oliver would have had a similar air about him for bedding a beautiful, unattainable woman like Isabel Rochev. But he could never forget the shocked disappointment on Felicity’s face when she saw Isabel leaving his hotel room — and sinking weight in his stomach when he realised that he had disappointed her. That sick feeling was now a constant presence in his belly.  
  
Isabel was followed by Lyla and Felicity, the two women having struck an instant friendliness with each other. Oliver reckons it’s because they both loved Diggle. Differently, of course, but that that mutual love for John Diggle translated into instant mutual respect between the two women.   
  
Felicity had been quiet ever since she questioned him about why he hooked up with Isabel Rochev and he dismissed her question with an embarrassed joke. Once they rescued both John and Lyla, Felicity had opted to spend the rest of her time in Moscow either by herself or hanging out with the couple.   
  
The easy friendliness that the two of them shared was soured by her disappointment in him and his guilt over what he had done with Isabel.  
  
"Everything good with you, man?" Diggle stops midway the stairs leading to the plane to turn to him.  
  
"Yeah, all good," he says, clenching his jaw and meeting the older man’s eyes as if to challenge him to call his bluff.  
  
Diggle looks at him for a few seconds and then nods, “Have it your way, man. But you’re an idiot.”  
  
Oliver sighs. _I know_ , he agrees in his head.  
  
Once he gets to the plane, he sees that Isabel had seated herself in front of the plane on the right window side. Diggle and Lyla were in the middle of the plane, on the right side with Felicity seated across the aisle from them. She had a Gogol book open in her lap that she was pointedly reading, ignoring everything everything that was going on around her.   
  
_Dammit, Queen! Fix this._  
  
"Hey," he stops next to her, "Can I seat there?" motioning to the window seat next to her.  
  
"No," she says, not looking up from her book, "Sit somewhere else."  
  
He knows he shouldn’t push her so he takes the seat directly at her back. She keeps ignoring him.  
  
When the plane takes off and he sees her grab her armrest, he leans forward, reaches his arm to hold the top of her right hand in comfort. She lets him.  
  
He takes it as a good sign.  
  
——————————  
  
Surprisingly, despite the turbulence their small plane encountered on the way back from Lian Yu after delivering Slade Wilson to his maximum security prison, Felicity did not panic. Maybe she was getting used to flying in small aircrafts. Maybe it was because it was Oliver who was flying them this time. Maybe it was because the pilot kept a hold of her hand the entire time.   
  
Felicity wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  
  
———————————  
  
The first time they ever flew together on a commercial flight, they were heading to Corto Maltese. They needed to investigate one Alberto Conti, who was mentioned in one of the confidential documents that Felicity hacked from the NSA as being involved in the H.I.V.E. and in Andy Diggle’s assassination. Conti’s last known location was Corto Maltese, a small island in South America, so the team needed to do some onsite reconnaissance.  
  
They had no choice but to fly coach. At that point Oliver had not regained his funds or his company back, and Felicity thought that whatever funds they had left was better used for more ‘practical things’ like more materials to make more arrows, an extra recurve bow for Oliver and Roy, and spare computer parts.   
  
So coach it was.  
  
Felicity distracted herself from her fear of flying by trying not to laugh at Oliver, whom she thinks is flying economy class for the first time in his life. First, he complained about the lack of overhead luggage space. That was her fault, as her carry-on had two laptops, three tablets, two 1TB portable disks and a few antennas and cables sown into her bag. Her hand-luggage was so bulky that he had a hard time making it fit into the tiny overhead bin.  
  
Then he mumbled about the lack of leg room. The words, “How can people fly this way?” made it out of his mouth a few times as he moved around trying to find a comfortable position. It was funny but she really couldn’t blame him. His legs were gargantuan — long and muscled. So she twisted her leg to the side and offered one of his legs room under the seat in front of her.  
  
"Good thing you have such short legs, Felicity," he jokes, then howls as she pinches his side.   
  
When he started complaining about the tiny arm rest between the two of them, she couldn’t help herself. She started laughing out loud.   
  
"But it’s tiny, Felicity!" he whines, whispering quietly to her. "How are two adult arms supposed to fit into this?"  
  
"It’s a six-hour flight, Oliver! You’ll live," she answers back, still giggling.  
  
He huffs and then crosses his arms on his chest. She laughs at him some more. Then he looks at her then smirks, “I have a solution.”  
  
"What?"  
  
"C’mere," he says, unfolding his arms he pushes their shared armrest towards the middle of the back their seats, removing the barrier between them. Then he extends his right arm around her shoulders, his right hand clasped comfortably on the top of her right arm, and pulls her closer to him. His left hand holding both of her hands on his lower thigh.  
  
"Better," he whispers, nuzzling her hair with his nose.  
  
Indeed.  
  
————————————————  
  
She had to get to Vegas as soon as possible. She had just gotten a call from the Sunrise Hospital to let her know that, as Donna Smoak’s emergency contact, that her mother has been brought in for multiple injuries as a result of a domestic altercation. She was at the Arrow lair when she got the call, so she hurriedly called out to sparring team mates that she had to go, and then rushed up the stairs.  
  
"Felicity!" Oliver called out, grabbing a shirt and quickly putting it on to follow her outside. She was barefooted, for crying out loud! In the middle of a cold Starling winter.  
  
"Oliver, I have to go! My mom’s been admitted to the emergency room! I knew that new boyfriend of hers was bad news!" she said, stopping to punch in the code to open the door.  
  
"Wait! Just a second, Felicity," he says, taking her shoes from her hands and bending down to put them on her feet. He didn’t care that their teammates was witnessing this scene from the below the stairway.  
  
Once he’s made sure that her feet were properly covered, he opens the door and leads her out of the lair. He takes her car keys from her and gets in the driver’s side of her car.  
  
"Go book us tickets for Nevada," he says, starting the car.  
  
"Wha—? Oliver? You’re coming with me?" she asks, shocked.  
  
"Do you really think I’d let you go through this by yourself?" he answers, shrugging.  He reaches across the console and grabs her hand, "Never going to happen."  
  
She spent the two hour, twenty minute flight to Las Vegas crying in frustration.  
  
The hospital had called again before they boarded her flight with an update about her mother’s status. A broken nose. Four broken fingers. Two cracked ribs. Grade 3 concussion.   
  
Donna Smoak was being kept sedated to give her body a chance to recover and was under strict medical observation to ensure that her concussion didn’t lead to serious brain injury.  
  
Felicity and her mother had a strained relationship but that didn’t mean that Felicity did not love her mother. At the thought of her mother in pain, and what had caused her injuries, Felicity’s emotions ranged from panicked, to angered, to scared.   
  
_Just let my mom be OK, please._  
  
"Ssh, ssh, it will be all right, Felicity. Your mom will be fine. She’ll recover from this," Oliver whispers, kissing her temples and forehead repeatedly as he held her tight in his arms. He held her for the rest of the flight.  
  
As they deplaned, they had to let go of their tight hold. He reaches for her hand, instead. He doesn’t let go.  
  
Ever.  
  
—————————————-  
  
\+ 1  
  
"You know, there is another way to distract me from my fear of flying," Felicity whispers, softly laying kisses on Oliver’s jawline.  
  
"Hmm?" Oliver growls, tilting his head a little bit more to give her more room to lay kisses. She obliges.

Never has he been so happy to get his fortune back. Now they can travel on private planes again, and enjoy the privacy that comes with being the only two people in the main cabin of a jet.  
  
He smiles and bends his head closer to hers so he can lay a long, intense, wet kiss on her lips. Minutes after, he releases her lips and retracts his tongue from her mouth.  
  
"What other way, Mrs. Queen?", he smirks.  
  
"I’ve been hearing about this Mile High Club…? Any idea what that is, Mr. Queen?" she answers, acting like she really has no idea. The act is ruined when she smiles cheekily and wags her eyebrows at him.

He laughs. A deep, from-the-belly laugh. _Oh, my lovely, beautiful, sexy, funny, brilliant wife._

He stands from his aisle seat and extends his hand to bring her up with him. He bends her backwards for another long kiss, then leads her to the master bedroom in the back of the plane.

By the end of their eleven-hour flight to Bali, he will make sure that the two of them would be bonafidé members of the Mile High Club.

**Author's Note:**

> Original post: http://outoftheclosetshipper.tumblr.com/post/93766303678/hey-do-you-think-you-could-write-an-olicity-fic


End file.
